


But I'm sure, I want to be with you

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [132]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deaf Character, HYDRA Husbands, Hockey, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating, Subways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26315515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: It dawns on Brock that he still hasn’t gotten a chance to apologize properly and he wants to, but how would he go about it?
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [132]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	But I'm sure, I want to be with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Sweetums 💙💙💙

New York is home to a lot of sports teams; the Knicks, Yankees, Mets, Jets. There’s hockey teams too. Like the Islanders and then there’s the Rangers.

It’s that team that he’s currently holding tickets to for an upcoming game with some Canadian team he doesn’t care about. He also doesn’t care about the Rangers either. He just happened to be the butt of some kind of karmatic joke where Brock entered a contest at a sports bar in hopes to win the second prize of a $150 gift certificate to his favorite steak house but instead won the main prize of the tickets. 

The game was in less than 24 hours and he still struggled to pawn them off to anyone. God he hated hockey.

“Fine, I’ll go with you.” Bucky piped in suddenly. “But only because my night class got canceled, you can’t be a grump though. I don’t want your negative energy around me while I enjoy staring at Lundqvist.”

Brock frowned, despite knowing Bucky couldn’t see him on the call. “Can’t Rogers take ya? He’d be better company than me.” 

“Working late, besides we haven’t hung out in a couple weeks. It’s time and it’ll be fun, I’ll even buy you an overpriced beer!”

Watching a hockey game wasn’t really Brock’s idea of fun, sure he liked when they were fighting but besides that, it was pretty boring for him. Well, at least he could drink.

“Sure, fine. Whatever. Are we takin’ the subway?”

“I’ll text you when I figure out what I need to do tomorrow, we might have to meet up at Madison.”

“Sure. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, he was making plans to go see a hockey game.

*****

Jack still doesn’t know how Clint gets his hands on things just by existing. At least he’s the one that profits when his friend isn’t interested in taking part in whatever it is, or accepting it. He reads the hockey ticket again and smiles to himself. Clint doesn’t get hockey and Jack doesn’t think he ever will, which is okay. He’s got a free ticket to the next home game and he’s happy to watch them live.

He hasn’t seen a game since the accident, so it’ll be the first time he’ll experience a game after losing his hearing and it should be interesting seeing everyone reacting in real time. But with all the games he’s seen prior, he thinks it’ll be neat to focus solely on the finer details and just it all soak in without the background noise.

In any case, Jack’s excited, and to feel like that instead of anxious as he used to be at the starting point of his recovery, it’s a big step he’s not going to take lightly.

*****

As much as Bucky tried to sell him on the wonderful world of hockey, Brock wasn’t convinced at all. He was right about the amount of hot, dumb looking guys hanging around that seemed like they’d be a fun time in bed but he opted for a night of spending time with his best friend and getting drunk enough that he could sit still through the game and not slowly become personally offended that it was happening.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Bucky said with a jab of his elbow into Brock’s side.

“I’d rather have spent the night splittin’ a pizza with ya and gettin’ drunk off my ass in my own damn apartment.” 

Bucky only smiles wider at him and pulls him into a sideways hug just before planting an obnoxious kiss to his temple. 

“I’m gonna walk to Steve’s place, do you wanna come with?”

It was tempting but Brock needed to get an early start. He knew if he went back with Bucky, there was a chance he wouldn’t even get home that night and he’d wake up with a crick in his neck from sleeping on Rogers’ shitty couch. 

“Nah, I got some shit to do. I’ll call ya later.”

“Sure thing, I had fun. Night.”

Brock gave him a wave and headed into the easy flow of people walking towards the subway.

Waiting at the platform he noticed a guy standing in front of him; tall, dark and handsome and absolutely Brock’s type. He’d turned his head to the side looking down the tunnel for their train and Brock saw the healed over scar across his face and realized if he didn’t have a thing about that before, he did now. It looked pretty mysterious, well everything about the man was mysterious, his eyes subtly examining at both hands- one holding a Rangers tote bag with some things he must have bought and the other that reached back to pull his peacoat in, scanning for a sign of any sort of ring. It was the first of many steps he wanted to take before even making an attempt at conversation and maybe he wasn’t so keen to get home if he could get something going with this guy.

Before he can even make an attempt, the train arrives and bodies shuffle in, thankfully Brock gets a seat right in the middle beside his new shiny focus and because they seemed to have both gone to the game, he had an in. He could pretend he was more into hockey than he had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d shown more effort into something just to bait a hot guy to talk to him.

“Some game huh?”

No answer. The guy didn’t even look his way.

Brock scanned the subway car and others were either involved in their own conversations about the hockey game, or riders ignoring their environment completely.

Brock decided to give it another try, recalling things Bucky had been saying to him. “If Panarin didn’t pick up those last two goals I think we woulda been goners.”

Again, nothing. After a few beats the hot stranger had the audacity to pull out his phone and roam through it like Brock hadn’t even said a word to him.

He stole another look around and while no one was paying any mind to them, Brock was a little offended, instinctively prodding at the man.

The moment he turned his way, Brock kept his tone neutral if a little low and frowned. “At least get some balls to say you ain’t interested in talkin’ ‘cause- “

The stranger’s brows came together in confusion, his face doing a few things before it paused and his eyes widened slightly and lifted a hand to stop the tirade. He silently pointed towards his phone and when Brock really did stop, the man began to type out a message.

_ If you were trying to talk to me, I’m deaf. I didn’t mean to offend. _

Between the heat rising up Brock’s face and the sinking realization he was more of a dick than he presumed before today, Brock stared straight on into mossy green eyes and this guy wasn’t just handsome, he was hot as all hell. That and he just made a total ass of himself.

To top it off, the guy had some kind of apologetic look in his eyes like he was trying to shoulder at least some of the blame for being disabled. Oh God, he’s suffering. This was some kind of test he failed terribly.

Apparently his gawking was a touch too long and the man, with a slightly hurt look across his face, turned back to stare ahead of him and out the window past the people sitting across from them.

Brock doesn’t know what to do, so instead of doing something, he just sits there, staring at his hands.

Barely five minutes pass before the guilt is too much to just ignore, the stranger was clearly trying not to look his way and he seemed a little tense compared to before, which he doesn’t blame the man for. Brock’s need to make things better when it’s clearly his fault kicks in harder.

What if the guy thinks he’s an idiot? What if he’s hated, or lumped in with any other asshole this guy’s run into? He definitely doesn’t want to be a part of that.

The stranger seems to feel some of Brock’s uncomfortable energy when he chances a glance his way. Brock can only stare back and at least this time he has the foresight to give him a small wary smile that he hopes looks at least slightly apologetic.

They both glance away and the stranger seems to relax a little, pulling out his phone again to text, and that’s good. Brock feels relief, and yet they’re not talking which was what he wanted in the first place. He sucks at all this striking up a convo bullshit, usually people approach him, it’s easier. Fuck, he still has over half an hour before he reaches his stop and all he can do is fiddle his thumbs.

After about another 15 minutes goes by and Brock feels antsy again about the whole thing. The guy’s been on his phone all this time, apparently texting someone and sometimes an emoji is caught at the corner of Brock’s eye or a picture is sent he can’t make out. He’s bored so he does what any normal person would think of doing, he subtly tries to check out the guy all over again.

God, he never knew a side profile could be so beautiful, he’s got a cute nose, and then there were those green eyes Brock got to see previously, he’s got amazing bone structure too, or at least that’s what he’s been told about his own face and if it’s what he thinks it exactly is, then this guy has it too. There’s an old scar cutting into his thin facial hair that Brock wants to ask about while his fingers trace it but obviously he doesn’t and he clasps his hands together just for extra insurance.

It dawns on Brock that he still hasn’t gotten a chance to apologize properly and he wants to, but how would he go about it?

It’s not like he could text him.

Maybe a handwritten note on the back of one of the receipts he usually stuffs into his wallet after buying something?

Tapping the man on the shoulder and mouthing it out- no, that’s just too weird.

Sign language?

Sign language. Of course Sign language! Brock had a plan now.

He's going to take himself through a crash course on how to say sorry and introduce himself through ASL via google, and then if nothing happens, at least Brock tried his best. No harm, no foul.

This was not only because this man was gorgeous and because maybe Brock wanted to see if maybe they could go for a beer or maybe even a coffee, but also because he wondered if anyone had ever attempted to make things right after being wrong. The world was so used to people not giving as shit, or slinking away after making an ass of themselves, there was not much in pride to just put it aside and admit wrongdoings. He wanted to be one of those people that did. 

Who knows, maybe he’s completely wrong and this guy always gets apologies when mistakes happen, but Brock’s going to go for it anyway, his mind’s already set.

*****

For the most part, Jack was over the self loathing that his deafness brought him, but right now he kind of wishes he’d been able to hear the guy sitting next to him so he’d known about how he wanted to talk. He wasn’t offended about the fact that he didn’t know he was deaf, and when he did find out he at least looked apologetic about it, which was nice. 

The man was gorgeous, and while he wasn’t really into hitting up random guys for their number, or maybe even to invite them up to his apartment if it was really getting interesting, this one seemed like an exception. Especially when he noticed how he kept looking at him as they continued sitting together.

Sharp features and hair he wanted to hold on to for various reasons, some he didn’t want to think about in public, and Jack couldn’t help himself but want. 

But then, he was kind of at a disadvantage, one that the handsome stranger didn’t even realize until apparently trying to get some point across and then when he found out, there were no more attempts.

Jack just sat full of regret at not trying to make something up just to keep contact while they sat there riding together on a slowly emptying out subway car.

The only option he really had was to try and text something to the man with his phone and hold it out for the guy to read, but even then, he didn’t know if he was into guys or not. He didn’t even know his name, he only flashed him one of those weird smiles you gave when you found something out and learned to keep your mouth shut and Jack was so very out of every person’s league with his disability.

Ah well, it didn’t matter much as he stared along the wall of the station they were just leaving. His next stop was home and he would probably never see the man again.

Turning towards his mysterious stranger to tuck his phone back into his pocket, his other hand grabbing the handle of his bag between his legs, the man suddenly seemed to animate in his seat and abruptly held up his index finger to get Jack to stop. 

Whatever he was expecting from him, it truly wasn’t this.

He signs  _ sorry _ in a circular motion against his chest and he swallows like he’s nervous, clearly unsure of himself. His index goes up again and then, to Jack’s surprise and with the help of a cell phone, fingerspells B-R-O-C-K before exhaling out a breath.

He signed for him.

_ For him. _

Obviously it was his first time doing it and that only meant he was making the effort and had been trying to figure it out while they were riding the subway to their respective stops side by side.

For him.

Overcome with shock that Jack didn’t really know he’d harbor for someone abruptly wanting to take in a quick lesson in Sign to try and talk to him with, he couldn’t stop himself from emphatically sweeping his hand out from his mouth outward in a thank you hoping it was understood.

The man broke out in a grin. “Hey, I think I know that one. That means thank you, yeah?”

Jack nodded quickly after he read his lips and began to say something else but hands went over his and he was met with a hesitant expression. 

“I know we ‘ad a moment there, but I really ain’t much of an expert yet with this stuff so that’s about the extent of what I’d know in the time span I ‘ad.” 

Jack smiled wider nonetheless, the word  _ yet _ sitting itself at the forefront of his mind, astonished that this all actually even happened. He signed out his name in the air, silently mouthing each letter as he did it and Brock grinned back at him.

“Jack huh? Nice to meet ya.”

He wasn’t sure how to react, excitement settling in his bones that someone as good looking as Brock was even bothering to talk to him, eventually he put out a hand and Brock took it. It shouldn’t have made Jack nervous, but it did.

Jack notices Brock’s phone open to a note taking app where it says basically what he just said, apparently just in case he couldn’t sign it out and he gets a sheepish smile for it. 

And once again Jack was in awe. He takes his own phone out, typing out: I’m still surprised you took the effort.

“I wanted to.” Brock beamed, and his smile is contagious, Jack can’t help himself but genuinely believe him.

While pros and cons run through his head over and over again, Jack decides to just give it a shot because what’s the worst that can happen? He brings the phone close to him and carefully thinks of how to exactly ask before typing out his message and holding it out for Brock to read.

_ If you’re interested, do you want to get coffee with me sometime? _

Brock’s brows go up and Jack braces himself for rejection. “Like a date?”

Jack nodded, but he rest his phone on his lap already sure of the answer.

“Yeah of course. I was hopin’ yanno?” The surprise on his face must have been clear because Brock smirks, sobering up a little. “I was wonderin’ if it was okay to ask, beat me to it.”

It was disappointing when his stop arrived and the subway car was slowing in entry to it. Before he can say anything, Brock seems to know already, a frown across his features and Jack shared the sentiment.

“Wanna switch phones and you can text me when yer free, yeah?”

Jack nodded and offered up his phone, Brock putting in his number just as the doors began to slide open and he knew from the past that a voice announced the station stop. At least now they had each other's numbers to text and that was nice.

As Jack got to his feet, stooping to get his bag, Brock quickly went on his phone and entered something in. Jack’s phone vibrated as he took a look to see Brock saying goodnight to him.

He brought the tip of his hand to his lips as he mouthed  _ good _ then swept it palm side down against his other hand for _night_.

It took a second for Brock to understand but he chuckled after. “Thanks, I sure am now, Jack. Gimmie a text when yer home, yeah?”

Stepping backwards off the train and barely making it before the doors went to close again, Jack paused to watch the subway car take off while Brock stared back, giving him a short little wave. He mimicked the gesture before he headed for the stairs, already excited about the date they hadn’t set up yet and eager to get home so he had an excuse to text Brock one more time before their night came to an official and promising end.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Swing Lynn by Harmless


End file.
